Hideous Treachery
by Faerlas
Summary: Frodo is tempted, the fate of the world is in the balance... The hour has come...No flames please! Complete! READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! And just trust me. The rating is just to be safe.
1. Mount Doom

**HIDEOUS TREACHERY**

**Mount Doom**

Disclaimer: I do not own it.

_Authors note: This is very different from my other fanfics. This one is dark, evil, morbid, everything my other ones are not. Well, okay, not everything. No slash or anything like that! Anyway, I hope I make this good enough to convince you all to see it to the end. REVIEW! But no flames please!_

Frodo and Sam were at Mount Doom, Sam was unconscious upon the ground, Frodo had the Ring dangling by his chain. Suddenly he was jumped by Gollum, and a brief struggle ensued. Frodo grabbed Gollum, flung him over the edge of the rocks and into the fires of Mount Doom.

"It's mine!" he cried, just as Sam woke up.

"No Mr. Frodo! Destroy it! PLEASE!" Sam begged.

"No. It is mine!" Frodo calmly replied. An absolutely hideous glint was in his eyes.

Sam fell to the ground, weeping uncontrollably. No, this could not be happening. Sam slowly realized that he must destroy the Ring, and Frodo. He got up, lunged towards him, but a moment to late. Before he knew what was happening, he felt himself born up by the fell beasts of the Nazgul. He suddenly fell unconscious.

Frodo was awake for it all, he was awake all the way to the dreaded eye. He was set down in front of the Dark Lord.

The Witch King of Angmar grabbed the Ring from Frodo and gave it to Sauron, who instantly took physical form.

"For your insolence Master Hobbit," Sauron sneered. "You and your friend shall be locked in my dungeons and tortured till I deem you are willing to be loyal to me!"

Frodo felt himself shattering to pieces. His precious was gone, and now Sam was being dragged into the mess with him. Empty, hollow, meaningless, and vengeful. These were some of the many things coursing violently through the hobbit.

Suddenly, without words, Frodo was being turned and made to see the battle yet raging below at the gate. He could see clearly the Nazgul killing the eagles, he could see a troll slay Aragorn, he saw Gimli be hewn to pieces by a large orc, he watched as Gandalf was pulled from the scene with a strong breeze and a blinding flash. The Valar must have taken him back. That thought was given to him by Sauron. He watched as Legolas was slain, Pippin hewn, the men of Gondor and Rohan dying. And why? Because he wanted to keep the Ring. He felt guilty, he felt terrible! He felt vengeance and desire for the Ring. He began to understand the Nazgul...

The next moment he was being hit over the head, and then was dragged off to the Tower of Barad Dur. When he awoke, he saw only darkness. Then his eyes adjusted and he saw a battered Sam lying in a heap next to him.

Frodo felt nothing, but vengeance and hate. That is, until he looked at Sam. Poor, good hearted, innocent Sam. He slowly let out a moan of pain, then he coughed up blood. For a split second Frodo felt compassion.

"Mr. Frodo. Are you here?" Sam weakly called out.

"Yes Sam. I am," Frodo unemotionally replied.

"Are you all right Mr. Frodo?" he asked.

"I'm fine. They haven't done anything to me, save take the Ring."

"Then we've failed," Sam said. "And they told me that all our friends died, but I didn't believe them."

"They died Sam. I watched them all die. Believe Sauron. He has no occasion to lie, not anymore," Frodo said. The tone frightened Sam. It was calm, cool, uncaring.

"Mr. Frodo! What's going on? What's happening to you?"

"Nothing Sam. This is only what happens when you have the Ring too long."

Sam began to weep. This was too terrible for him! Frodo, finally totally corrupted, Sauron, finally won! "Noooo! All must come right in the end! That is how all the old stories ended! No! This is terrible! NO!"

"This is not the old stories Sam. This is not the age of Elves or Valar or Men. It is the Age of Darkness, and this age has no end."

A few days, a few hours, a few weeks, who knew? But it was sometime later that Frodo and the battered Sam were gruffly taken by orcs to Lord Sauron.

"Come, watch the rest of your friends die!" Sauron evilly welcomed. "I am about to destroy Gondor and your rat land of the Shire," he added. He sounded as if he was watching a fencing match.

"I don't wanna look!" Sam mumbled.

"But look you shall!" Sauron cried.

Then, quite against both of their wishes, and beyond Frodo's care, they were made to look at Gondor as orcs slashed all the inhabitants there of, and then, as they entered the Shire and slew or captured all the inhabitants of it. Sam began to weep bitterly as a nazgul grabbed Sam's Gaffer and held him up for them to see.

"Swear your allegiance to me, and I shall spare your Gaffer Samwise. I shall make sure he is not harmed, and well taken care of," Sauron offered.

"I know what you're up to! No, I can't! I won't! I know you'll just kill him anyway. If I got to be stuck here, I'd like to know that I kept my dignity and my allegiance to Elbereth and Galadriel and watch him die, than to swear to you and watch him die!" Sam cried out.

The name of Elbereth enraged Sauron. He gave the signal to the nazgul, and Sam watched as his Gaffer was cruelly killed.

"Take this Shire-brat away from me and teach him to serve me, or die in the process!" Sauron commanded. Sam was dragged away by orcs, kicking and screaming out to Frodo saying, "Don't lose hope Frodo! All will come right in the end! You'll see! You'll see! Don't lose hope Frodo!"

It seemed his cry fell on deaf ears. Frodo neither turned, nor acknowledged him in anyway. He gazed on, feeling only the slightest twinge of something as he watched the Brandywine flow red with hobbit's blood.

"What say you about all this Frodo?" Sauron asked.

"I say you have won," Frodo simply replied. All his thought bent towards the Ring. Suddenly a plan began to form.

_Authors note: MWAHAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHA! I am evil! Just call me Lady Faerlas, Queen of Darkness, Empress of cruelty, and Czar of Death! Please review! Please keep reading! I promise many surprises! Forgive me, I got carried away... XD_


	2. Days of Darkness

**HIDEOUS TREACHERY**

**Days of Darkness**

Disclaimer: Not mine.

_Authors note: I think this story shall be shorter. I hope I don't lose all of my loyal readers over it! I hope I don't create enemies over it. I also hope you all stick around and wait for the ending!_

Sam was flung back into the cell in which he and Frodo were kept. Frodo looked indifferently over at him.

Sam had landed on his back, coughed up massive amounts of blood, and then whispered to Frodo, "Have hope Frodo. Have...hope... All will...come right... in the end... You'll see! You'll..."

Sam died, a battered, ever hopeful hobbit, that had finally succumbed to the pain and darkness about him. A tear, one, almost made it to Frodo's eye. But it never came. He looked over at the corpse heartlessly, and chose that moment to engage his plan.

He had to wait, of course, a reasonable time, or else Sauron would grow suspicious, but he could wait. His vengeance could wait a few days at least. Two days after the death of Sam his body was haphazardly dragged away. Frodo had no window he could look out of, but if he had it wouldn't have made a difference. Out of his window he would have observed the body of Sam being flung to a fell beast and snapped up in one greedy gulp. Three days after the desecration of Sam's body, Frodo walked over to the cell door and cried, "I want to speak with Sauron! I must speak with him!"

A huge, tall, grossly shaped orc came up and growled, "You want to see the Dark Lord eh? Then see him you will Shire scum!" he said as he fiddled with his keys. He unlocked the heavy, iron door, and dragged Frodo to Sauron.

Once in the presence of the Dark Lord, on his dark throne, Frodo spoke.

"Lord Sauron, I have watched Sam die, and now I realize that you are the Dark Lord. You are my lord. There is no one else. There never will be."

"You then denounce all of your dead friends, the Valar, and all they stood for?" Sauron asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes," Frodo answered. All graveness and solemnity was in his face, voice, and eyes. "I denounce them all as treacherous, vile scum."

Sauron smiled, his torture method worked. It always did. Torture the friend and not the person, and he will crack when his friend dies. Two may be strong together, but one will crack. He, Sauron, had the Ring and Sam was dead, and Frodo had just signed over his soul. He was not much of a servant, but he was certain he could put the halfling to good use, even if it was only for entertainment.

"Then you may go. I shall put you in another room, a better one. You shall learn and be taught by the Witch King of Angmar. Go," Sauron said as the Witch King came up to him and escorted him off. "Soon I shall have this waif dying as well. He has begun already. I shall torture him with tasks and my ways until his mind is gone and he is a miserable slave," Sauron laughed to himself. Ah, he loved his wickedness.

Frodo was left in his room, black garments on his bead of foul Mordor make. He changed into them, and he sat upon his bed. Frodo's plan? To win the trust of Sauron, to become so trusted that he is ever at his side, and then, when the timing is just right, cut the Ring from Sauron's hand and keep it for himself!

There was no knife to be found however, so Frodo went to work making a sharp knife of a stone shard that sat upon his floor, in an unswept, neglected corner.

Days turned into weeks and months. Soon the whole of Middle-earth stank with decay and death. The men were now forced to work as slaves, the women, what horrors he did to them none shall ever know, nor shall they ever want to. Only the heartiest were left unmolested so they could begat more children and make more miserable slaves for Sauron. The hobbits were all dead, the dwarves all slaughtered. Balrogs, once hidden, roamed once more, dragons were being spawned again, and soon the small, vile creatures could be seen learning how to fly. Orcs were everywhere, and all of this Frodo could see from the slit of a window in his room.

He spent a good deal of time in his room. He was taught in his room, ate in his room, and was isolated in his room. In the dreary solitude of his room his dark thoughts were allowed to brood. He was ever contemplating, plotting, fantasizing about the moment he would slice the Ring from Sauron's hand. At times he could almost feel it's burning wait on his palms. Each sunless day melted into a moonless night and all times were consumed with thoughts of the Ring. Even the miserable captives thought on it perpetually. They often wondered how all things came to this pass, how Sauron regained the Ring, and how things used to be. Thoughts of the world before this loathsome time were beginning to fade. All under the Ring faded as the Ring itself glowed brighter and grew in despicable beauty. The hoarse voices of the oppressed cried out to anyone that would listen for mercy and deliverance from the evil times that had befallen them. It seemed to them that their mournful cries fell on the cruel rocks or on orc's ears and then returned to them with lashes of the whip.

Their cries were not lost however. The miserable slaves were not forgotten. All was being heard and seen; deliverance was coming, but when? none could say. In Valinor the souls of dead men were standing in wrath in the Halls of Mandos, refusing to enter Illuvatar's thought until they saw the blood of their kinsmen revenged. Elves, hobbits, dwarves, maia, and istari all watched and pleaded to the Valars for permission to rescue the oppressed. They were forbidden to do so.

"All shall be set right, but we must wait," Manwë kept saying.

"But how long?" the masses kept crying. To that they received no answer.

Time progressed, and so did Frodo. He was soon allowed out of his room and made to watch classes of children as corrupted men taught them. Soon he was put in charge of a small division of children slaves that were being brainwashed to love Sauron. Frodo was a head master of sorts, and for what he lacked in height, he made up for in cruelty. Once, maybe twice, he felt a slight twinge of sympathy towards a young brat that screamed or cried in terror just ere he beat him with a whip, but that had no lasting impact.

Frodo held this position for six years until one day Sauron called Frodo to his throne room.

"Frodo, I have read the reports from the Nazgul on the school. To say the least I am surprised. They say you rule the children with an iron fist. If you continue with this, you shall soon be promoted," he said to the Hobbit.

Frodo bowed low and said, "I thank you Lord Sauron."

A few weeks later Sauron told the Witch King of Angmar to place a certain young boy in Frodo's class. This boy looked remarkably like Sam.

"Report to me how Frodo reacts to this young boy," Sauron said. His plan, to see if Frodo was completely changed. If he could treat this Sam look alike with the same cruelty as the others, then he would promote him.

Frodo was lecturing the class when suddenly an orc came in holding a boy by his dirty collar.

"This boy is being put in your class," he growled.

"Put him in that chair," Frodo said, pointing his Hobbit-sized staff at an empty desk. The boy sat down and instantly Frodo saw he looked like Sam. His eyes and face remained unmoved, but a shudder was felt in his heart.

Much to Sauron's pleasure and Frodo's torment, this boy was a hyper child that did not like to sit still at all. Sauron watched Frodo deal with this unruly boy and was pleased with what he saw. Frodo remained merciless and Sauron was glad.

"Frodo, next week you shall learn how to manage the men slaves in the plains of Gorgoth," Sauron had told him. Frodo was sitting on his bed, the words still ringing in his ears. He smiled wide, an evil glint in his eyes. His plan was working... he was already moving up. "Soon," he said to himself. "I shall be next to him and my chance shall arise."

The next week came, and Frodo the Terrible, was put in charge of men. He learned quickly how to manage the miscreant man-slaves and was let to himself. Only three months after he took over he was never seen, but from afar and on a black pony by the men. He drove them to do more than they thought possible, and punished them harder than they thought they could endure, but they did, for they had no choice. Death would not come. Such a sweet thing was forbidden in those lands. Their cries were beginning to fade, the hope of the men was beginning to wane. Sauron was a master of killing hope.

The temporary and permanent inhabitants of Valinor were growing restless. They were watching all hope fade in the world and were powerless to do anything about it. No one yet knew of Frodo's plan, but all who knew Frodo were seriously grieved at the sight of Frodo being so cruel. What was wrong with him? Sam had spoken a bit about how Frodo had kept the Ring, but surely he could not be all that cruel!

One day, he was seen up close. A man, an insolent Gondorian that still could recall days of freedom, was acting up. The orcs beat him, but still he persisted in rebellion. The orc was about to strike him again when Frodo bellowed out, "Wait! I shall deal with him!"

The orc let his whip fall limply to his side and Frodo rode up.

"And is this Frodo the Terrible? He is but a child!" the Gondorian jeered.

Frodo rode up next to him and glared at him and it was now that the Gondorian fully beheld the monstrosity that was Frodo the Terrible. His appearance was frightening. It had the look of one who was dying and being preserved at the same time. Cruel and merciless, that is how he looked. Even the curve of his lips was cruel and merciless.

"You think I am a child?" he asked. "You shall now learn differently!" With his spiked mace he beat the man until he was almost unconscious. He then put him in care of an orc and told him to heal the man so he could work another day.

After that, no one dared to speak against him. At least, not loudly. Of course someone always whispers, but each one Frodo even suspected of dark designs he beat and tortured.

Even though all seemed hopeless and the cries of men were waning, hope was still there, and whispered words were still spreading hope and tales of days before the shadows, of elves, halflings, dwarves, and men. Many children never heard these tales, but they that did kept these stories close to them and kept hope alive. The whispers were so quiet, and the hope so faint, however, that even Sauron did not notice it. It was a secret kept deep within the hearts of the people and it could not die.

Over time he graduated from children to men, from men to orcs.

Orcs, they were the next rung up. He was overseer of training and discipline. He hand selected those he thought would be best suited to Sauron's purposes, then he trained them with severe rigidity. Even though he had never trained soldiers before, nor had he been in an army, he was quick to learn. At first he was mentored by the Witch King, but soon enough he let Frodo on his own. He and Sauron were very pleased with the results. Soon he was the head of all the orcs. He oversaw spawning, training, discipline, everything.

Soon, Frodo was known as the tenth wraith. He was pale, drawn, his skin was now a greyish green, his eyes, once limpid, were now cloudy and pale. His brown hair was yet the same, he was still not that old, and the Ring preserved all under its sway. That is why the Ringwraiths did not die. To say Frodo looked like a specter is an understatement. Sam looking at him from the comfort of Valinor wept bitterly, and begged him to turn back. He is fortunate Frodo could not hear him, for if he could have, he would have surely thrown Sam aside and have him hauled into a deep pit to be eaten by the creatures there in.

Frodo the Terrible began to grow in stature as he grew in cruelty. He became one of the chief torturers and soon he could look shorter men in the eye. At five feet tall and terrible thinness and transparency Frodo the Terrible was a mortifying sight to all he came to torture. All that saw him shook in fear.

Soon, Frodo had climbed, beaten, and killed his way to the top. He was now as high as he could go. He was now a slave advisor to his lord. Frodo sat on Sauron's left, and the Witch king upon Sauron's right. Despite his high rank, he was still tormented by the Ring. He wanted it and loathed it so much that it threatened to drive him mad. In fact, it was. Even though he had all sorts of swords, knives, and spears in his hoard, he still kept that shard of stone and close to him. His plan was still remembered, his desire for the Ring now consumed him. That is what drove him to be so cruel, that is what made him so wicked.

The three were the most loathed and feared more than anything else in all of the world. They were the triangle of evil, and they reveled in it, they flaunted it, they loved it!

_Authors note: Evilness marches on! Merciless, cruel, wicked! Just don't flame me. Just wait til the end before you hang me by the neck._ _ACK! You may not have too! I have a lot of angry elves coming at me with knives! Just put it down slowly Legolas! Wait! If you kill me now you'll never see the end! Legolas backs away while putting knives away (I give a sigh of relief!)_

_Since there is now a spiffy lou feature of responding to reviews, I shall do that instead of writing out reviews here. Elwen, did I do better? smiles_.


	3. Treason to the Ring

**HIDEOUS TREACHERY**

**Treason to the Ring**

Disclaimer: Still do not own it.

_Authors note: MWAHAHAHA! REVIEW!_

If Frodo were still in the Shire, he would have known he had been serving Sauron for thirty years. However, he was not in the Shire, he was in Mordor, and he did not know, nor care how many years had gone by. Each day was a torment and a love for him. It was all so extreme that time seemed utterly irrelevant. And it was. There is no need for time when all is perpetually evil.

The stories of the world before Sauron reclaimed the Ring were still a precious treasure and the source of hope for the race of men. Hope still endured, but they that knew of the precious treasure were growing few, to few. In Valinor the masses watched as things only got worse and worse. After a point everything seemed to plateau and Sauron reached the epitome of his wickedness. The shining populous of Valinor was sitting leisurely when suddenly a great horn was heard. Everyone jumped to their feet and looked towards the Halls of Manwë and somehow knew what they must do and each went to do it.

Frodo had been waiting long, patiently, plotting and planning for the moment which came to him on the day that should have been the anniversary of Sauron's downfall. Sauron was talking to the Witch King about an uprising in the land where Rohan once was, knowing it was time for him to strike. All his long waitings and sharpenings of the stone were about to pay off. He whipped out his knife of stone and hew off the Ring. Sauron's clothes immediately fell under the sudden lack of mass, the Witch King looked at Frodo, who had now put on the Ring.

The world knew there was a shift, from terrible, to worse. Frodo stood and bellowed, "I am the Lord of the Rings! Bow to me all!"

The Witch King, knowing that Sauron was replaced, bowed in obeisance to his new lord. His allegiances were with the Ring, none other.

"Now that I am lord, I shall do things right! I shall finish the job. I shall attack Valinor!" Frodo declared.

He and the Witch King immediately set to work on a plan. For months they plotted and planned as to what they should do. The strategies of Morgoth and Sauron were studied thoroughly. All the time of the universe was Lord Frodo the Terrible's to spend, and he would make use of every minute of it.

The Valar knew what had happened, all the Blessed Realm had been watching, waiting for this day. The Halls of Mandos were emptied, the dead from Mithrandir's attempt to overthrow Sauron were summoned to go to war once more. Now they were invincible, now they would succeed.

It was ten years later, after he had his men, orcs, dragons, balrogs, and fell beasts were trained to what he deemed perfection, and after all plans were made, Lord Frodo the Terrible found himself being attacked before his soldiers ever left the gates. That did not matter, he was ready. He was sure of his ability to win. He sat on his dark throne watching the battle rage. He watched as his forces died and the enemy's did not. He was growing desperate, so he put forth all of his strength and terror.

A battle raged in which orcs died, men died, dragons and balrogs were slain, and yet no dent could be seen in the lines of Valinor. Dark Lord Frodo continued to watch from his dark tower. Suddenly he looked out over the plain, and to his absolute astonishment and surprise he saw Aragorn, Mithrandir, Gimli, Sam, Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Boromir, all whom he had ever known, and had ever fought with were there, fighting, and winning.

Lord Frodo the Terrible would be tested, but he would not be defeated so easily. They would not find him hiding in his tower, no, he would ride to war. He would go down and crush them all himself!

Mounting a fell beast, Lord Frodo the Terrible flew down to the field of battle. He dismounted, and swung his great mace at all his former friends. He was no longer the short halfling, he was tall. Tall and great.

He met Aragorn upon the field of battle, and as they fought, they spoke.

"We meet again Frodo, but my promise to protect you no longer exists!" Aragorn said as he slashed his sword skillfully at the over grown halfling. At first, when he had first beheld Frodo, he did not recognize him. He was so shaken at the sight of Lord Frodo that he it took all of his wits to block the first attack.

"That is fine! I shall kill you before you have to worry about it!" Frodo replied as he swung down. The fact that he was trying to kill his former friend, all his former friends seemed irrelevant to him. He didn't care. He was beyond all feelings of love and friendship.

Aragorn blocked the attack. Then he swung his sword around and cut the Ring from Frodo's hand. Frodo instantly became a formless spirit, wandering about, and watching his domain fall to pieces. He watched Sam and Aragorn take the Ring to Mount Doom, his Mount Doom, and cast it into the fiery chasm as tears flowed down their faces. He screamed, sending a wretched piercing cry over all of Middle-earth before he was finally destroyed.

The cry wounded the hearts of all the people that knew him. They all knew it was him, and they were all sad and grieved over what he had become, but they knew that all would come to right now.

The tortured hills gave a sigh of relief and sang for joy at the death of Frodo the Terrible and Sauron the Great. All the elves were glad, and Yavanna instantly set to work healing the worlds hurts.

_Authors note: Told you this was short, and a bit rushed and I apologize, but I could think of no other way to elongate it. All is not over yet! HA! Review please!_


	4. Justice Be Done

**HIDEOUS TREACHERY**

**Justice Be Done**

Disclaimer: No. Don't own it.

_Authors note: Last chapter! REVIEW!_

Suddenly, Dark Lord Sauron and Lord Frodo the Terrible were standing before Manwë, and a host of men, elves, dwarves, and hobbits were behind them, all dressed in bright and shining robes and dresses and armor.

"Justice must be done upon you both. You both have committed high treason to the Valar, Iluvatar, and the kings of the realms of Gondor, Arnor, and Rohan. You have massacred elves, hobbits, dwarves, and men. You both have destroyed the very Middle-earth you both proclaimed to love. You are both guilty and hereby sentenced to the Outer Darkness. Sauron, you shall stay there until the breaking of the World, and then you shall be judged by Iluvatar. Frodo, you shall be sent there for a thousand years. We do not hold you entirely guilty, for the strain was perhaps to great even for you. After a thousand years you also shall be judged by Iluvatar. May he be gracious unto you. Now look, Frodo the Terrible, at what you have done!" Manwë said.

Frodo the Terrible turned and saw the masses, no longer clothed in white, but in slashed, sweat stained, and bloody clothes and armor. Every scar that had been inflicted since he claimed the Ring by the fires of Orodruin could be seen. Frodo the Terrible, not fully evil like Sauron, melted away, and Frodo the Hobbit, son of Drogo remained. The crowd watched as Frodo physically shrank back to hobbit size, but they neither spoke nor made any sign.

Frodo gazed out at the masses, in the front was Sam. Good old Sam. Frodo could see every cut, bruise, scab, welt, and inner wound he had caused to come upon his loyal friend. He looked at Merry and Pippin, slashed, cut, and he could see all the lines where they had been mangled and torn apart, yet they stood before him whole. All scars were deep purple, red, and black. Frodo gazed at Aragorn, and saw his head had been hewn off, and where he had been stabbed by an orc's blade, and where they had severed off the members of his body and skewered them upon stakes to show what would happen if anyone dared to rebel. He gazed at Gimli, slashed to pieces, axes and arrows sticking out of him. He gazed at Legolas. He was riddled with arrows, but he had kept going. He was cut many times by orcs, yet he fought on. He was stabbed by a troll in the heart, and he died.

All the fair faces in the crowd were marred in one way or the other. They who had suffered loss ere they sailed West, as was the case with Arwen, he could see her heart in pieces in side of her, and her face and eyes red with much crying. The sight was hideous, beyond endurance for Frodo the Hobbit. Frodo the Terrible would have said it was a good days work, but Frodo the Hobbit was all that remained. He began to weep bitterly. He raised his eyes once more and saw all the terrors he had inflicted on slaves under his watch, he saw the children he had maimed, the families he had ruined, and then, he saw the Middle-earth he had destroyed. All was dark, all was dead. All was utterly destroyed.

Frodo fell on his face before the masses and wept uncontrollably and sobbed out in a loud voice, "Take me away! Take me away! I am sorry for my deeds! I beg forgiveness from you all!" he turned to Manwë and cried, "Throw me into the Outer Darkness quickly! I should not be seen any more by these good people than necessary! Do not torment them with the sight of me!" His whole, small body shook with each sob. Such remorse had never been seen before, nor would it ever again. For his was sincere, and he was truly penitent for his foul deeds. "Whatever punishment you see fit I shall gladly endure for the horrible, loathsome, abominable crimes I have committed against these good folks!"

The Valar had learned the difference now between true remorse and feigned. Manwë looked upon the broken hobbit and said, "I see that you are truly sorry and penitent for your crimes Frodo son of Drogo. Therefore, I shall cast you yet into the Outer Darkness, but you shall be allowed to return to Middle-earth. You shall be given a second chance. But, if you follow the same path, we shall not let you live. We shall kill you instantly and punish you severely for your actions, both times, and that second time, there shall be no mercy."

Frodo nodded his head and humbly thanked him. As he was being walked past the now white and shining Fellowship Aragorn said, "Frodo, we shall be waiting for you when you return. And we forgive you." The Fellowship nodded in agreement.

Frodo began to weep uncontrollably for gratitude that even after all his horrible deeds his friends could yet forgive him. He would not have forgiven himself, so why should they forgive him? Perhaps the wise only become wiser after death. And perhaps more compassionate and understanding of even more terrible deeds? Frodo found himself staring at a great black opening and he was cast into it, the Outer Darkness, and heard the ominous clang behind him.

---

Frodo heard a cry behind him, he turned, there was Gollum, he had struck Samwise on the head with a rock, he was coming for the Ring. He whirled around and saw he was back at Mount Doom, his second chance! Frodo looked at the Ring and said, "I shall not be Frodo the Terrible!" and cast it into fires of the dreaded mountain.

The next thing he remembered was blackness. Suddenly his eyes fluttered open and he beheld Aragorn, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Sam, Gimli, and Gandalf, all standing round his bed and smiling at him.

"We have been waiting for you to awake Master Frodo," Aragorn said.

"Then you all remembered your promise in Valinor?" Frodo asked.

They all looked at him slightly confused, then Frodo realized that if he indeed had been given a second chance that they had been made to forget the horrible deeds of Frodo the Terrible. So he said, "Never mind, it must have been a dream."

---

Many days later, months rather, after he reached Rivendell on his way back to the Shire, Frodo spoke to Elrond about Frodo the Terrible.

"What do you think that was?" he asked.

"A vision, sent by the Valar, warning you of what you would become if you succumbed to the power of the Ring," Elrond replied.

Frodo gave a tremble, and Elrond put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "No need to fear. That shall never be."

**THE END**

_Authors note:_ _Before I go any further with this note I must say that I am painfully aware of the abrupt ending, but I could think of no other way to end it. For once in my life, words escaped me and I was bereft of imagination. A thousands pardons I ask of you all! Anyway... I have this terribly annoying thing about evil winning for always and ever, I can't let it. I'm the sort that must see evil overcome ultimately, so I had evil overcome. I just had to write at least one evil story, at least one deep, dark, wicked and gruesome story, just to get it out of my system. There, that's over with! Well, I hope you all enjoyed it! As always, REVIEW!_


End file.
